((Hey guys, this is open if anyone has anything to creep in - if anyone actually reads all of this! I just need a storyline so that I can start playing my priest, Lilliana again, since she kind of died when I stopped playing and I need to get her back!
Oh yes! This was the storyline way back to lead up to what I'm working on now...um...like 6 years later..... It's with Warneshi, Regnantah, Skash, Lupen, Zuruzuru and a few others:
http://www.guildportal.com/Guild.aspx?G ... 253&Page=1
There! Post frenzy on a Saturday afternoon!))
The sands of Tanaris swirled restlessly, eroding against stone and flesh alike, tearing each asunder without discrimination. A storm was brewing, and the sand bit exceptionally hard this day, thundering and cracking into the air, deafening those that dared to travel the deserts this day. The winds rose in the fierceness and the determination that was familiar to this land and could be explained as nothing less than unkind. Amid the unforgiving elements rested a slender troll. Her form that which was aged in years but still claiming it's youthful figure in many ways, leaned against the grand yet ancient outer wall of Zul'Farrak. The crumbling stones and wind worn surface felt rough against her skin, despite her hide's own level of toughness. Her head lay back against the warm stones. Her mess of thick red hair had at some point fallen from it's pony tail, and now it washed desperately across her face, covering her eyes. To look at her, one would not be able to tell if her eyes were open or shut. She stood so very still, one hand lightly resting upon her shaman's mace.
Despite the dangerous sand storm that was threatening to rage in full force before her, Bloodshine seemed quite tranquil. Indeed, she was searching for some form of peace, even if it was only inner peace. However, she did not appear destined to find it this afternoon. The facade of a calm state was in truth more of resignation, as a pit of despair had opened before her. She felt if she were but to take one step away from the outer walls of her once-great tribe's city that she would fall deep into nothingness. It was like one of the very Soul Eaters of the Sandfury that she had battled against those many years ago had a hold of her soul, and had devoured part of it.
A high pitched voice broke the thunder of the sand and berated Bloodshine worse than the sands whipping around her could cut and scratch. It was the gnome, Tranquility, to whom she had spent the last half century of her life. He broke her little “tranquil” piece of misery.
Tranquility was shouting, “You raised the goblin, Bloodshine? A flipping goblin? Did you realize what you were doing? You hate all goblins and their disgusting chin and eyes and nasty ways of selfishness and whatever else is bad about them which I can't think of any more examples now of how bad they are but I know they are bad and not to mention that one of those dirty beasts killed your grandson just two days old squashed his head in with his foot you remember that day?” He actually paused a moment in between his long winded, rambling sentences. “Not to mention what torture he sent Lilliana to after her beloved Warneshi sucked out her soul and you know that all of them deserve nothing but scorn and not your kindness even if that Kyfur fellow was a Grim and part of that cult that your daughter held so dear!”
Tranquility, the little blond haired gnome, with his fat hands and blue robes, stood just feet away from Bloodshine, although he at least had the sense to shelter himself with his cloak. He allowed himself a pause for Bloodshine to respond. He had been yelling at her for near about an hour now, with intermittent lapses in his fury. During all this time he had received no response from her. This time was no different, as the silence that ebbed from Bloodshine would be considered deafening if it were not for the raging sands. The gnome sighed and pulled his cowl further down his cherubic face. For the moment his enraged eyes calmed and became gentle as he looked upon his dear, ever so dear, companion of many years. His heart ached, as hers did, but even so he found himself frustrated with the old troll even though they shared a sadness in their strange companionship. Before he knew it his temper had the best of him and he was prattling on again at her full force.
“Kindness, to a goblin! Of all the forsaken and most ridiculous things I've seen you mess with!” Tranquility hissed as best a gnome could hiss. Surprisingly, he wasn't half bad at it, especially considering he lives with member of the ousted troll tribe that once worshiped a giant snake like serpent. Tranquility paused for just a moment, and was rewarded with a response from Bloodshine.
Bloodshine's old, raspy voice was quiet and subdued. “I wasn't kind to him, Tranquility.” A hint of a defensive hiss trailed off at the end of her sentence, and Bloodshine's talons wrapped tightly around the handle of her mace.
Tranquility continued, his high pitched voice speaking the orc common tongue with the utmost elegance, at least as far as gnomes go. “Oh yes you were as no one would have been any more the wiser if you had sent that goblin back to where he had come from to go and languish there, but instead you played eater of souls with that one and even took some of that worthless soul as if you were a troll of the old times, so now I'm tired of your games Bloodshine, you played them then, and you still play them now, you and your Soul Eaters and what's more..........”
There was an eruption of sound, and a spray of sharp rock showered Tranquility and the sands around them. Bloodshine had come to life, and slammed her mace into the side of Zul'Furrak in a fit of uncontrolled anger. She was a troll, and berserking actions were commonplace. She did not control her emotions when it was her culture to not do so, unless of course doing so benefited her in some way.
Bloodshinewhirled on the little gnome, her face a blur of red tendrils of hair and black tusks. Her blue eyes flashed dangerously with their piecing coldness. “Ga bergrim mik mergud tuma naginbumat!” Bloodshine spat angrily in gnomish, speaking the language as cleverly as Tranquility could speak the orc tongue. She faced off with the little gnome who stood all too sternly in front of her rampage for he was ready to rampage himself.
The two of them stood there, chests heaving in anger. The little gnome's chubby hands were balled into fists and his face held the most dire of expressions. It was quite a sight; the troll fuming in indignation at the gnome and the gnome standing up bravely to the troll's true scorn as sand whipped around them with the same level of anger that their hearts held. Eventually Bloodshine sighed, and hooked her mace onto her belt. As Bloodshine did so,tthe storm picked up in strength. It was a danger for either of them to continue to be out in the open like this for the air had become hard to breath, and the sand would bite into the skin and the eyes with no mercy.
Bloodshine's hair covered her eyes, and without so much as a glance she walked away from Tranquility. She followed the outer wall to a side entrance that would lead her into the ruins of Zul'Farrak, her taloned hand pressed against the stones to help guide her in the mounting blindness of the desert's storm. She left her gnome companion behind with nothing but the sands to keep him company.
** *** **** **
Bloodshine was no stranger to the streets of sand and the elegant yet terrifying buildings of Zul'Farrak. Her years as Matron here had served her well in knowing how to traverse the back alleys and lessor traveled paths within these walls. She was keen to avoid the Shadowpriest, Sezz'ziz, as he made his rounds. She had encountered him on previous times she had returned to her old city, and although his power had dwindled somewhat, his scorn for her remain over her escaping him those many years ago. Bloodshine did not wish for trouble this day. She was no rogue, but she moved with enough stealth to get her by. Going as quickly as she dared, she crept into a side door that led her into the troll palace and eventually into Chief Ukorz very bed chambers. This was the one place that Bloodshine found that she was welcome among her Sandfury brethren. She paused as she stood, quite in the open, amid the rich furs that hung from the walls and lined the floor, the skulls and skins of enemies from battles long forgotten, amid the tales and stories of her people that were remember by only a few Sandfury. Ukorz was not here today. Behind his bed of furs, Bloodshine disappeared, descending, unnoticed down the secret stair that would lead her to the vault. The air quickly cooled as Bloodshine descended into these forgotten tombs. The stone walls were decorated with reliefs of ancient trolls and their gods and goddesses. The good and the horrid tales were depicted there, their knowing smiles and their wretched grins followed Bloodshine's every move. She could always feels the spirits here. At one time in her life she would have welcomed the caress of her ancestors, and she would have called out for their guidance. But the old spirits hadn't offered her anything in a long time, and she found herself less and less likely to turn to their welcoming arms or to heed their wisdom.
Before she could enter the rooms of the dead, Bloodshine had to stop before a high door of smooth granite. She rested her forehead against the cool stone, and whispered a prayer. The shining tentacles of countless spirits inspected Bloodshine's intent. They were remnants of many Loa, the old golds, ancestral and forest spirits in which the troll races draw power for their voodoo magics. Not too long ago, Bloodshine called upon them to protect those within this shrine of death. She really only had one entity that was within the tombs that she cared to protect. All the other trolls that had been buried before Bloodshine added this protection to the tombs merely benefited from her charity. Bloodshine pressed her taloned hand upon the door, and she was allowed entry. The long hall she entered was momentarily shrouded in darkness when the door behind her sealed itself. Then the walls began to shimmer with gentle light to lead her way. She passed the dead, Sandfury mummified in their coffins. The coffins ranged in make from wood that had dried and rotted, to granite and steel, and some of fine metals such as gold or silver. The Sandfury of the aristocracy rested below, for none of the common folk could ever afford to purchase a resting place below the great city. Those of common birth became the protectors of the city after their death. Their corpses were raised by necromancy and controlled by the crazed and cruel Witch Doctor of Zum'rah. Zum'rah had possessed a powerful Sandfury, and the hateful creature still yet walked the Sandfury's desecrated city and Bloodshine knew to stay far away from that one.
Within a room beyond the rest, Bloodshine came to a halt. She removed her heavy armor, and placed it gently upon the stone floor. A modestly decorated coffin, crafted of an unknown blackish metal that dimly shimmered from the unobtrusive lighting, lay near the corner as if forlorn in abandonment. A smaller coffin, one that would befit the burial of a very young child lay situated just behind. The cover of the coffin was secured, no air would ever slip in, nor would any air slip out. It was minutes before Bloodshine stepped forward and paced her hands on the lid and pulled it aside with the utmost care. She took a few moments before she dared to disturb the resident who slept soundly within and then cautiously removed the wraps that bound the body. She checked the lifeless form for decay or other signs of maladjustment to this life of living death, and then busied herself with repairing the body with salves and gently spoken magic pulled from the elements who willingly answered Bloodshine's call. She took her time, hours even, before she felt that her job had been done with the utmost satisfaction and care.
When she was done, she positioned herself on her knees and gazed into the coffin. It had been so easy to bring Kyfur back to his life. It had been child's play actually, making his corpse sing, and to return his soul to a body that should have been lost to Azeroth. But returning the soul to the corpse before her, the one that she so diligently looked after, was a different story. She could not find this one's soul, and so there was nothing she could do for the body, other than preserve it until such a day that she had power to do more.
The sound of footsteps falling invaded the peaceful quiet of Zul'Farrak's tombs. Bloodshine's head did not rise at the sound for the gnome that lurked within these tombs was welcome beside her, even if her Sandfury brethren would damn him at every corner. The gnome stepped up and came to rest beside Bloodshine. Tranquility reached his chubby hands into the coffin, and took the blue hand of the corpse into his own. He then took Bloodshine's hand, and said “Take your daughter's hand, Bloodshine, even if her soul is not here I am sure that her body can feel your presence and it's that that would bring her comfort in this world of chaos and hatred and war and all that which we hate.”. Tranquility spoke gently in his rambling way. All the wind had been blown out of his sails in coming down here to join Bloodshine.
Bloodshine looked to Tranquility, and she took her daughter's cold, coarse hand into hers. Tranquility looked away, into the dead face of the young troll priest before them. Lying there was Lilliana, whom he had helped raise alongside Bloodshine after she had born her into this world. She had been the only child that this old shaman that chosen to carry to term. Although Tranquility had never approved of Bloodshine's choice of a mate for the one that would help her bring a child into this world, he had loved Bloodshine's daughter as his own. Tranquility's anger at Bloodshine earlier today had been for the lack of focus that he perceived her in having. He felt that Bloodshine spent too much time mucking about with say, the spirits of simpleton goblins, when she should have been soul searching to return that which belonged to Lilliana. He could be of no help, other than in searching for information, spells, anything, and to push Bloodshine further into a quest that she truly had given up years before. Although he damned the guild, The Grim, at this point in time, it had been The Grim that he had pushed her towards to return. Bloodshine's daughter had died in service of The Grim in the early days as they rose to power in Azeroth. He had hoped that by Bloodshine returning to the ranks of The Grim that something would spark in the old shaman. He had hoped that this spark would enable her to do this most impossible task of raising her daughter from the grave even though her soul was most likely lost and destroyed. This did not have the effect that Tranquility had hoped for, and instead he had seen her revert back to the old ways of her tribe. He witnessed her perform necromancy for no reason other than to test it's capabilities, soul eating to cause pain and gain control of hapless victims, blood drinking and other disgusting variables of voodoo of the darkest kind simply because she had the power to perform such rituals.
The faded light that soaked the tomb walls caused a noticeable flicker, as if flames were busy echoing their shadows throughout the room and those within. The raspy voice of the old shaman was barely audible, but the pain was loud and clear. “I put her here.” Bloodshine said, almost in apology.
Tranquility's reply was not one of blame, but of honesty. His hand squeezed her shoulder. “I know.”
((to be continued))
Mixtures of Sand and Blood ((open rp)
Re: Mixtures of Sand and Blood ((open rp)
((Hey Grim friends! It's been 7 years, but I'd like to play my priest, Lilliana again! I couldn't figure out how to "resurrect" her, but Syreena helped to give me a few ideas a few months ago. I know not many of you were around when I was first in the Grim from 2005-2007 when I played Lilliana and was an Irredeemable, so I don't expect her to get any huge warm welcomes, but I know it will be fun!))
The Troll King
It had been years for the troll with the red hair. Years since he had crossed paths with the Grim or even gave them a second thought. A Soul Eaters life could be endless, and indeed, the old troll “king” had lived an endless life. A life driven mad by the souls he had destroyed and from the essences of those who he had not completely ripped apart. They taunted him. Reminded him of his dark, cold ways. Made him regret. Eventually, his life had begun to flutter on the edge. It began teetering to and fro, threatening to burst into life while at the same time, threatening to extinguish like a weak candle and end it all for good. It was his choice, he was haunted, and he didn't care.
He sat miles away from where Bloodshine and Tranquility mourned Bloodshine's irresponsible choice, those 7 years ago. The memory of Bloodshine's trickery and mind bend to convince him to eat Lilliana's soul had been all but lost in his self imposed lack of giving a shit demeanor. Tonight he was secure within his camp, alone and drifting. He didn't care, seriously. At least, that is what he always told himself.
Lilliana
It had been years for the troll with the red hair. She was nothing but an essence of one of the souls he had consumed. To describe her would be to describe a miniscule wisp, a graying light threatening to disperse. She no longer had red hair, at least in this form. She was nothing but an “idea”, a spirit. She had watched from within the confines of her hell. She didn't know her name, she didn't know his. She didn't know how long ago she came to be here, but it felt like ages, endless. An endless life of torture and mindlessness spent alongside the other shreds of souls is enough to make anyone go mad. And she had gone mad.
This girl lived within her captor, separated from her body and nothing but a piece of the soul she once had been. Soul Eaters of the old Sandfury tribe pulled souls from their defeated enemies, ripped them apart in the consummation. And then that was all. No passing onto the next world, no long sleep with their god or gods, just oblivion. For the strong souls, such as this female who once had red hair, well, these souls would linger. Almost as if placed in a jar for safe keeping, and for a few years they would remain whole.
At all times she lingered on the edge, pushing against her captor's thoughts and barriers that prevented her escape. But she had been here too long. The plan her mother had when she tricked her captor failed, and she was doomed. Her soul had slowly decomposed, “shredding”, and she was doomed.
Doomed, but maybe not tonight. Tonight felt different. Tonight her captor felt like he could be dying, and she felt like she could be alive. The barriers that once held her back felt flimsy. She pushed on them, or at least, imagined herself pushing on them. To her surprise one of them gave way, and then the next. She found herself struggling through the decrepit waste of used souls, eaten and digested, their remnants pulling at her, cutting her. But soon the girl spirit had escaped her place of torture. She was nothing but a ball of energy, wisps of delicate smoke. She was impossible to see except to those who had talent for such things. She didn't know what to do, and so she lingered and tried to get her bearings. She noted the troll below her. That was her captor. She knew she should feel anger, but she felt pity, remorse. She felt she should console him, while at the same time she knew she should run, but she didn't, not at first. She stayed until she heard him speak.
The Troll King
His head lay on his arm. His red hair scattered across his face, his tusks, just like a spiderweb. His eyes were closed, although he could clearly sense the spirit that lingered above him. He sighed, and with a breath that seemed endless, he whispered, “Sssssorry.”
Bloodshine
Bloodshine and Tranquility were leaving the tombs when Ukorz found them. Tranquility had stayed behind Bloodshine and was securing the hidden passage door that lead from Ukorz's chambers to the tombs of the dead Sandfury royalty. Bloodshine nodded to the old “ex chief”. He was old, as old as Bloodshine, and had lost the muster that had once brought him power within the Sandfury Tribe. Before one of his twin son's, born of Bloodshine's imposter, the demon Gahz'rilla, brought it down to nothing. Now Ukorz only lingered like a lost spirit, held in his falling and confused city, cursed to be held hostage here. He had his moments of clarity though, and Bloodshine looked for these.
Ukorz Sandscalp, his once fiery red hair faded like dead blades of grass, blocked Bloodshine's path. “You were told not to bring the gnome here.” Ukorz gestured to the small humanoid. Tranquility was still at the passage, and was doing his best to ignore Ukorz. “He is alliance, an enemy.”
Bloodshine's raspy voice was indignant and tired. “Everyone is an enemy to you and your people, Ukorz, shut the hell up and get out of our way. Or go play with the Zandarli, like the rest of your wasted people have chosen to do. Just move.”
Ukorz was tall, taller than Bloodshine, and he towered over her as if to prove his might. But his days of might had long past, and he could never have any control of Bloodshine. “No. Don't you sense it?” His eyes, usually so vacant, held some of their old shine, and he looked earnestly to Bloodshine.
“Sense what?” She was irritated, and pushed him away from her. Tranquility came up beside her, acting casual.
“That old troll can't sense friend from foe, I can tell you that, Ukorz you are confused and befuddled and you need to listen to what the lady says and shut the hell up and get out of our way!” Tranquility muttered as he passed by Ukorz without fear and followed Bloodshine.
Bloodshine stopped, no, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Ukorz had felt it before she had, he had felt Lilliana's soul in the world. It was weak, it would be hard for anyone to sense it. She turned and raced for the passage way, ripping it open and rushing down below. Tranquility and Ukorz looked at one another, two grown men forced to tolerate one another and each with their reasons for disliking the other. They nodded and began pursuit behind Bloodshine, Ukorz staying behind just for a moment to close to the door.
Lilliana's tomb was as Bloodshine and Tranquility had left it. Except it wasn't. There was light in here. Above Lilliana's lifeless form, was a soul. With a gentle gray light it extended wispy tendrils, drifting with deliberate force. Bloodshine could see that this spirit had been shattered and shredded, but it was an essence she knew well. It still held enough of what it once was to still call itself her daughter, Lilliana. Bloodshine could only stare in disbelief. The powerful shaman would have never expected this.
It wasn't Bloodshine who saved her daughter. It was Lilliana's own desire to live that had brought her here, on her own. Bloodshine had never been able to find the one who took her, the one named Warneshi. Something must have happened to him. Bloodshine had been sure that she had damned her daughter for all eternity in that one moment of desperation that lead her to trick Warneshi and hence have him eat her soul. But here Lilliana was.
Tranquility and Ukorz stepped into the room, one on either side of Bloodshine. They both watched quietly as the spirit entered Lilliana's lifeless body, and so brought life into it again. The first breath came with a rise of her chest, and slowly color began to spread across her body, warming the once cold flesh. Her heart began to beat, her life blood began to flow. When she sat up, there were tears in her eyes. She asked in a voice dry but still so very sweet to the ears, such a opposite to the grating rasp of her mother's, “Warneshi? Where is....Warneshi?” She looked at Bloodshine, Tranquility, and at Ukorz, and then fainted. If it wasn't for Bloodshine coming back to her senses and catching her, she would have fallen. Bloodshine clutched her daughter, stroking her hair, showing a sign of affection not often observed in the old, cold hearted shaman.
Ukorz and Tranquility are still hanging back. Then Ukorz speaks, “She wakes up and she asks for her brother?!” The old chief raises a brow at Tranquility. Tranquility isn't bearing Ukorz any attention, his eyes are fixated on Bloodshine and Lilliana. In shock. Ukorz doesn't seem to be in shock, and in fact, he grimaces and waves a taloned hand at the entire situation. Turning, he leaves the three in the tomb to their reunion.
Bloodshine and Tranquility did not even notice.
The Troll King
It had been years for the troll with the red hair. Years since he had crossed paths with the Grim or even gave them a second thought. A Soul Eaters life could be endless, and indeed, the old troll “king” had lived an endless life. A life driven mad by the souls he had destroyed and from the essences of those who he had not completely ripped apart. They taunted him. Reminded him of his dark, cold ways. Made him regret. Eventually, his life had begun to flutter on the edge. It began teetering to and fro, threatening to burst into life while at the same time, threatening to extinguish like a weak candle and end it all for good. It was his choice, he was haunted, and he didn't care.
He sat miles away from where Bloodshine and Tranquility mourned Bloodshine's irresponsible choice, those 7 years ago. The memory of Bloodshine's trickery and mind bend to convince him to eat Lilliana's soul had been all but lost in his self imposed lack of giving a shit demeanor. Tonight he was secure within his camp, alone and drifting. He didn't care, seriously. At least, that is what he always told himself.
Lilliana
It had been years for the troll with the red hair. She was nothing but an essence of one of the souls he had consumed. To describe her would be to describe a miniscule wisp, a graying light threatening to disperse. She no longer had red hair, at least in this form. She was nothing but an “idea”, a spirit. She had watched from within the confines of her hell. She didn't know her name, she didn't know his. She didn't know how long ago she came to be here, but it felt like ages, endless. An endless life of torture and mindlessness spent alongside the other shreds of souls is enough to make anyone go mad. And she had gone mad.
This girl lived within her captor, separated from her body and nothing but a piece of the soul she once had been. Soul Eaters of the old Sandfury tribe pulled souls from their defeated enemies, ripped them apart in the consummation. And then that was all. No passing onto the next world, no long sleep with their god or gods, just oblivion. For the strong souls, such as this female who once had red hair, well, these souls would linger. Almost as if placed in a jar for safe keeping, and for a few years they would remain whole.
At all times she lingered on the edge, pushing against her captor's thoughts and barriers that prevented her escape. But she had been here too long. The plan her mother had when she tricked her captor failed, and she was doomed. Her soul had slowly decomposed, “shredding”, and she was doomed.
Doomed, but maybe not tonight. Tonight felt different. Tonight her captor felt like he could be dying, and she felt like she could be alive. The barriers that once held her back felt flimsy. She pushed on them, or at least, imagined herself pushing on them. To her surprise one of them gave way, and then the next. She found herself struggling through the decrepit waste of used souls, eaten and digested, their remnants pulling at her, cutting her. But soon the girl spirit had escaped her place of torture. She was nothing but a ball of energy, wisps of delicate smoke. She was impossible to see except to those who had talent for such things. She didn't know what to do, and so she lingered and tried to get her bearings. She noted the troll below her. That was her captor. She knew she should feel anger, but she felt pity, remorse. She felt she should console him, while at the same time she knew she should run, but she didn't, not at first. She stayed until she heard him speak.
The Troll King
His head lay on his arm. His red hair scattered across his face, his tusks, just like a spiderweb. His eyes were closed, although he could clearly sense the spirit that lingered above him. He sighed, and with a breath that seemed endless, he whispered, “Sssssorry.”
Bloodshine
Bloodshine and Tranquility were leaving the tombs when Ukorz found them. Tranquility had stayed behind Bloodshine and was securing the hidden passage door that lead from Ukorz's chambers to the tombs of the dead Sandfury royalty. Bloodshine nodded to the old “ex chief”. He was old, as old as Bloodshine, and had lost the muster that had once brought him power within the Sandfury Tribe. Before one of his twin son's, born of Bloodshine's imposter, the demon Gahz'rilla, brought it down to nothing. Now Ukorz only lingered like a lost spirit, held in his falling and confused city, cursed to be held hostage here. He had his moments of clarity though, and Bloodshine looked for these.
Ukorz Sandscalp, his once fiery red hair faded like dead blades of grass, blocked Bloodshine's path. “You were told not to bring the gnome here.” Ukorz gestured to the small humanoid. Tranquility was still at the passage, and was doing his best to ignore Ukorz. “He is alliance, an enemy.”
Bloodshine's raspy voice was indignant and tired. “Everyone is an enemy to you and your people, Ukorz, shut the hell up and get out of our way. Or go play with the Zandarli, like the rest of your wasted people have chosen to do. Just move.”
Ukorz was tall, taller than Bloodshine, and he towered over her as if to prove his might. But his days of might had long past, and he could never have any control of Bloodshine. “No. Don't you sense it?” His eyes, usually so vacant, held some of their old shine, and he looked earnestly to Bloodshine.
“Sense what?” She was irritated, and pushed him away from her. Tranquility came up beside her, acting casual.
“That old troll can't sense friend from foe, I can tell you that, Ukorz you are confused and befuddled and you need to listen to what the lady says and shut the hell up and get out of our way!” Tranquility muttered as he passed by Ukorz without fear and followed Bloodshine.
Bloodshine stopped, no, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Ukorz had felt it before she had, he had felt Lilliana's soul in the world. It was weak, it would be hard for anyone to sense it. She turned and raced for the passage way, ripping it open and rushing down below. Tranquility and Ukorz looked at one another, two grown men forced to tolerate one another and each with their reasons for disliking the other. They nodded and began pursuit behind Bloodshine, Ukorz staying behind just for a moment to close to the door.
Lilliana's tomb was as Bloodshine and Tranquility had left it. Except it wasn't. There was light in here. Above Lilliana's lifeless form, was a soul. With a gentle gray light it extended wispy tendrils, drifting with deliberate force. Bloodshine could see that this spirit had been shattered and shredded, but it was an essence she knew well. It still held enough of what it once was to still call itself her daughter, Lilliana. Bloodshine could only stare in disbelief. The powerful shaman would have never expected this.
It wasn't Bloodshine who saved her daughter. It was Lilliana's own desire to live that had brought her here, on her own. Bloodshine had never been able to find the one who took her, the one named Warneshi. Something must have happened to him. Bloodshine had been sure that she had damned her daughter for all eternity in that one moment of desperation that lead her to trick Warneshi and hence have him eat her soul. But here Lilliana was.
Tranquility and Ukorz stepped into the room, one on either side of Bloodshine. They both watched quietly as the spirit entered Lilliana's lifeless body, and so brought life into it again. The first breath came with a rise of her chest, and slowly color began to spread across her body, warming the once cold flesh. Her heart began to beat, her life blood began to flow. When she sat up, there were tears in her eyes. She asked in a voice dry but still so very sweet to the ears, such a opposite to the grating rasp of her mother's, “Warneshi? Where is....Warneshi?” She looked at Bloodshine, Tranquility, and at Ukorz, and then fainted. If it wasn't for Bloodshine coming back to her senses and catching her, she would have fallen. Bloodshine clutched her daughter, stroking her hair, showing a sign of affection not often observed in the old, cold hearted shaman.
Ukorz and Tranquility are still hanging back. Then Ukorz speaks, “She wakes up and she asks for her brother?!” The old chief raises a brow at Tranquility. Tranquility isn't bearing Ukorz any attention, his eyes are fixated on Bloodshine and Lilliana. In shock. Ukorz doesn't seem to be in shock, and in fact, he grimaces and waves a taloned hand at the entire situation. Turning, he leaves the three in the tomb to their reunion.
Bloodshine and Tranquility did not even notice.